


Kie-Eyre Or, Et Tu, Bronte?

by executrix



Category: Blake's 7, Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë
Genre: AU, Episode tag-Duel, F/M, Fusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26093101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/executrix/pseuds/executrix
Summary: An alternate explanation of what Travis knew about his mutoid companion in "Duel," using the structure and some of the language of "Jane Eyre."
Relationships: Travis/Original Female Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4





	Kie-Eyre Or, Et Tu, Bronte?

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought that the mutoid's name was "Kiera" but the Programme Guide spells it Kie-Eyre. I'm already on record that Travis' first name is Edward, so once I saw that, I was off and away.
> 
> About the camera: there's a hole in the eyepatch that you can see into (both Travis I and Travis II). Of course the BBC wouldn't do this because they couldn't make an eyepatch without drilling a hole in it--it must be because Travis has a sophisticated camera eye.

CHAPTER 1  
There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. The climate system (already deranged, perhaps, at the hands of our Andromedan foes) showered us with bone-chilling rain. So we sat, my cousins Reed and I, in the nursery. Although he was far too old, my cousin John, an odious youth of fourteen, played with a model pursuit ship. I myself was but ten years of age, and, the despised poor relation, had no playthings of my own.

Although his stout stature and pasty face showed that he was all too cosseted already with dainties, he rang the bell, and the servant brought him a box of chocolates. Greedily, he crammed his fists with the bonbons. I myself had partaken of chocolate but three times in my short life.

Taking advantage of his distraction, I took up the discarded plaything, clutched it to my oft-mended, threadbare frock and pinafore, and ran to a neighbouring room, where I concealed myself within the window seat. Holding the model in my hand, I made it dive and swoop against the window, dreaming of the freedom and power I might find in command of such a mighty vessel.

All too soon, John found me, and began to beat me, using his chubby fists and the model ship itself. In vain I sought to defend myself; and when my Aunt heard the quarrel, she dragged me by the arm into a neighboring room.

For a while, I wept, feeling the pain of my bruises and the pain of injustice, and weeping sealed my eyes. Then I began to look around the room, seeing its heavy, dark wood furnishings, the cold gleam of the white satin counterpane, and above all the deep, fervent red of the velvet hangings of the bed, the velvet draperies of the windows, and the watered silk wallpaper. 

This was the room in which my Uncle Reed had breathed his last, and the fear of his angry spectre chilled my heart indeed. But that fear passed away gradually, before the single candle in the candlestick guttered out. 

There was a large, framed looking-glass opposite the tall, three-legged stool where my Aunt Reed had perched me and from which she had forbad me to stir. For hours, I resisted its siren call, yet at the last I was unable to keep my eyes clenched shut. At the last, I gazed into the depths of the mirror, the screams already building deep inside me. As if mesmerized, and shivering at the terror of disobedience, I stepped down from the stool and walked toward the glass.

The screams burst out from my lips like a malevolent flower (a Centerian carnivore, perhaps) when, with a flash of prediction of what was to come, I gazed into the glass.

And saw nothing. Nothing at all.

CHAPTER 2

After my recovery from brain-fever, insofar as my presence was no longer tolerated in the Reed household, provision was made for my schooling. I shall pass quickly over those years. I am grateful alike for the accomplishments that I acquired, and that made it possible for me to earn my own way in the world, and for the hardships and privations I suffered, which strengthened me.

From pupil I progressed to head-girl; from head-girl to pupil-teacher; after which eminence I determined to seek a situation in a private household.

I was the only applicant for the post of governess at Thornfield Hall. I learned from the housekeeper, Mrs. Fairfax, a genial woman in middle years, clad in the decent stuff dress and lace fichu of a Gamma, that my employer, as yet unseen, was one Space Captain Travis. 

I was unable to reach a conclusion about his place in the great world and the affairs of our beloved Federation. In one sense, possession of Thornfield Hall was a mark of great favour, for one would expect that only the mightiest are permitted to dwell in an isolated house of so many rooms. Yet, in another way, to live in Thornfield was a sort of exile, located as it was at the very periphery of the Dome, where the Dome itself was at its lowest, and seemed to loom overhead. Surely those expected to receive brilliant promotion would dwell at the heart of the metropolis.

Mrs. Fairfax told me that my pupil, Adele, was Space Captain Edward Travis' ward. At first, I was skeptical of such characterization. Our soldiers known for their virility; later on, Mrs. Fairfax imparted to me particulars of my employer's liaison with a Space City opera-girl; pair-bonding licenses are expensive and require numerous testimonials in proof of loyalty (which oft must be purchased at further expense). Yet, over time, I grew to believe that, although Captain Travis showed tender regard for the well-being of his ward, this feeling was not paternal.

Adele herself was a charming child, her Standard lightly accented to reflect her off-world birth. Yet the circumstances of her birth had imprinted her with a certain frivolity, which it was my task to eradicate. My hope, which I could not express to a living soul, was that Adele would make her military ancestors proud and achieve a place at FSA, and thence the stars. So in addition to lessons in deportment and needlework, I strove to instill in Adele such modest knowledge as I had of mathematics, physics, and astrogation.

One day, as I fixed Adele's bonnet in place for a healthful walk to the edge of the Dome, my heart was chilled within me by a terrible laugh that seemed to be ripped from the very pit of Hell itself. Mrs. Fairfax chancing to be by, I opened my trembling, pale lips to ask her who (or what) had uttered that dreadful cry.

"Oh, don't be troubled, Miss," she said. "'Tis only Grace Poole--one of the housemaids. She's not quite right in the head, and she can't help herself sometimes."

"Why, this is pre-Atomic," I said. "We have treatments for such. Why hasn't she been taken away and Modified?"

For the first and last time, Mrs. Fairfax dared to reproach me. "You shouldn't speak so, Miss, for all you are a Beta and above me. It's not their fault, the ones that are touched in the head. It's a visitation, and we oughtn't to be cruel to them on that account."

CHAPTER 3 

In the distance, I could descry an open vehicle, of the type allotted to military personnel of some importance. I heard a faint echo of the groan of the wrought-iron gates as they were opened by the vehicle's driver. I could see nothing of her face, and perhaps that was one motive for my shudder of pure horror. For, by the profile of her four-cornered hat, as well as by her menial task, I knew that she was a Modified, and that even the closest scrutiny of her face would be in no wise revelatory.

The passenger alighted from the vehicle. His figure was enveloped in a uniform greatcoat. Its details were not apparent, but I traced the general points of middle height, and considerable breadth of chest. He was past youth, but had not reached middle age; perhaps he might be thirty-five.  
He had a dark face, with stern features and a heavy brow--to the extent that the features could be seen. For a not insubstantial portion of his face was covered by a black patch, pierced so that the lens of the camera within could perform its work. 

The car and driver went away, and the man in the greatcoat strode down the path to the house. Before I could warn him, he slipped on a patch of ice, and fell heavily, a metallic clatter from his left arm sounding before his descent was complete. 

"Are you injured, sir?"

I think he was swearing, but am not certain. He rose to his feet, groaning, and I could already see that his ankle was swelling within the confines of its glassy leather boot. "Let me help you, sir," I said. At first, he shook his head, his pride offended, but he was unable to walk unsupported with a sprained ankle superadded to the other deficiencies of his body. 

I am glad to say that this was not the last time I was to come to his aid in extremity. Had he been a handsome, heroic-looking young gentleman, I should not have dared to offer my services unasked. I had hardly ever seen a handsome youth; never in my life spoken to one. I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, gallantry, fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that they neither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me.

"I believe I must take you to Thornfield Hall," I said, "For your conveyance has departed, and you are hurt. In the morning, you can proceed as you intended."

He gave a short, harsh laugh. "Why, where the devil else do you think I was headed? And where the devil else should I go, but to my own house? And who the hell are you?"

"The governess, sir," I said, much abashed. 

"And have you a name?"

"Kie-Eyre," I said, and he repeated it, in an odd, choked voice.

Once inside the house, and after he had removed his cloak and called for brandy, the light of the fire shone full on his face. I knew my traveller with his broad and jetty eyebrows; his square forehead, made squarer by the horizontal sweep of his black hair. I recognized his decisive nose, more remarkable for character than beauty; his full nostrils, denoting, I thought, choler; his grim mouth, chin, and jaw--yes, all three were very grim, and no mistake. His shape, I perceived harmonized in squareness with his physiognomy: I suppose it was a good figure in the athletic sense of the term--broad chested and thin flanked, though neither tall nor graceful.

He complimented me on Adele's progress, and my heart was warmed. He insulted my piano playing, and my heart was hardened against him. Then he sighed, and toyed with his glass of Madeira, and said, "I have a past existence, a series of deeds, a colour of life to contemplate within my own breast, which might well call my sneers and censures from my neighbours to myself. I envy you your peace of mind, your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory. Little girl, a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure--an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not?"

And so perhaps, I thought, that is why the punishment for those who have grievously offended against our beloved Federation, is to strip them of those memories.

After Adele had gone up to bed, Mrs. Fairfax and I sat late in the kitchen, supping tea and speaking of the very remarkable being who had entered the house.

"He is very changeful and abrupt," I said. She agreed that he might appear so to a stranger, and that allowance should be made for his peculiarities of temper. I asked why, and she said, "Partly because it is his nature--and we can none of us help our nature; and partly, he has painful thoughts, no doubt, to harass him, and make his spirits unequal." But, other than a cryptic word or two about family troubles, she would say no more.

CHAPTER 4

There was a hiatus in the great work on which Space Captain Travis was embarked (although I did not learn its nature for some time to come). He had accumulated a great deal of leave, which he spent at Thornfield. 

And was Space Captain Travis now ugly in my eyes? No, reader: gratitude, and many associations, all pleasurable and genial, made his face the object I best liked to see, despite its mutilations. His presence in a room was more cheering than the brightest fire. 

He made me love him without looking at me.

Yet I had not forgotten his faults: indeed, I could not, for he brought them frequently before me. He was proud, sardonic, harsh to inferiority of every description: in my secret soul I knew that his great kindness to me was balanced by unjust severity to many others.

And so we passed the period of the Space Captain's leave, until its pleasantness turned to a nightmare. I was wakened one night, by a noise that might have been the withdrawing of bolts. A dream had scarcely approached my ear, when it fled affrighted, scared by a demoniac laugh--low, suppressed, and deep--uttered, as it seemed, at the very key-hole of my chamber door. In quest of its source, I left my room.

In the corridor, a candle had been left burning on the floor. In the air, dimmed by smoke, was a strong smell of burning. My feet drew me to Space Captain Travis' room, where he lay stretched, in a deep sleep, as the deep red hangings of his bed were consumed by tongues of fire that leaped in a brighter red. 

He would not wake; the smoke had stupefied him. But, with the aid of his basin and ewer, and the water-jug fetched from my own room, I was able to quench the flames. He did not wake until the impact of the cold water startled him.

As soon as he woke, and heard my tale, he put on his dressing-gown and rushed to the attic. On his return, he swore me to secrecy, and pledged to see that, in the future, Grace Poole's antics would be controlled. 

He held out his hand--the natural one, that is; I gave him mine. "You have saved my life; I have a pleasure in owing you so immense a debt. I cannot say more." He paused; gazed at me; words almost visible trembled on his lips,--but his voice was checked.

CHAPTER 5

Of course, as a serving officer, my master could not spend all his life on holiday. On the last night before he returned to active duty, he was bidden to a ball at the most magnificent house in our neighborhood. Once again, the silent Modified appeared in the staff car to take him away. 

Such an insignificant person as myself received no card of invitation, of course, so all I know is what I was told, amid many giggles, by Adele (who was not invited either, but who was smuggled along by her guardian, who could not stand out against the micro-mind-wipe she produced by her pleadings. Adele told me much of the gallant officers who were present, and the ladies' lovely gowns, and how the loveliest lady of all was Miss Blanche Ingram, and how everyone clapped when she sang a duet with Space Commander Travis.

Adele also said that a "nasty man" was there, and that he cut Space Commander Travis dead. At first I little marked this--indeed, I thought that it was far more likely that my master, contemptuous of ordinary politesse, had cut him instead.

A few weeks later, I had the opportunity of seeing Miss Ingram for myself. She was indeed beautiful, if one admires the complexion of a Spaniard and Oriental eyes, and accomplished indeed, although I should be surprised if her knowledge of astrogation was even as great as my own scanty store.

I sat apart from the house party, but so then too did Space Captain Travis. He is not to them what he is to me, I thought. He is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine--I am sure he is--I feel akin to him. I understand the language of his countenance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me to him.

I have told you, reader, that I had learnt to love Space Captain Travis: I could not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had ceased to notice me--because I might pass hours in his presence, and he would never once turn his head so his eye was in my direction--because I saw all his attentions appropriated by a great lady, because I felt sure he would soon marry this very lady. But I was not jealous of Miss Ingram: or very rarely. I did not find her important enough to be jealous of. She was showy; but she was not genuine. She was not good; she was not original. 

"Oh, Miss Eyre, the nasty man is back!" Adele said, the day before the house party was to break up. The man, whose face was grim enough in all conscience, presented his card as "Mr. Mason" from a sugar plantation on one of the neutral planets. Yet I think I recognized him from the illustrated papers, and wondered why the eldest son of one of the greatest houses in the Federation, and the elder brother of our Supreme Commander herself, would appear thus incognito.

Late that night, after the household had gone to bed, I heard Grace Poole's unearthly screams yet again, and I ran from my bed, vigilant once more for fire. There was no fire, but through the open door of the guest room, I saw "Mason" sprawled on the bed, blood pumping from a wound in his arm. As I later found out, the wound was caused by a knife--but enlarged by human teeth. "She sucked my blood!" I heard "Mason" moan. "She said she'd drain my heart."

I saw Space Captain Travis shudder; a singularly marked expression of disgust, horror, hatred, warped his countenance, for who could be other than distressed at the thought of one human creature, sucking another's blood?

CHAPTER 6

In all the neighbourhood, it was talked of as a settled thing, that within the month, Space Captain Travis would wed Blanche Ingram. I resolved that, before that happened, I should be in a new situation, away from the torture-chamber that Thornfield would them become for me.

One night, my master came upon me in the library, earnestly searching the newspapers for vacant situations for governesses or instructors for girls' schools. 

"Kie, do you hear that nightingale singing in the wood? Listen!"

In listening, I sobbed convulsively; for I could repress what I endured no longer. "I have known you, Captain Travis, and it strikes me with terror and anguish to feel I absolutely must be torn from you for ever. I see the necessity of departure; and it is like looking on the necessity of death. Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? And if I had some beauty, and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you."

Some time passed before he spoke; he at last said: "Come to my side, Kie, and let us explain and understand one another. I summon you as my wife: it is you only I intend to marry."

"Your bride stands between us."

"My bride is here," he said, again drawing me to him. "Because my equal is here, and my likeness. Kie, will you marry me?"

He said that he would apply for the pair-bond license at once, and we must be married within four weeks. He said that he would send to his banker, to have his family's heirloom jewels released from their vaults, for my adornment. but I refused. He took me to a silk-merchants, and sought to purchase half-a-dozen dresses for me. I bargained him down to two. He chose the most unsuitable in the shop (amethyst and rose-pink); I persuaded him to make an exchange in favour of a sober black satin and pearl-grey silk. Furthermore, I told him that I should continue to act as Adele's governess, thus earning my board and lodging and thirty pounds a year besides, from which I should furnish my own wardrobe.

CHAPTER 7

The four weeks passed, before the day appointed for our pair-bonding ceremony. The last night before the ceremony, I dreamed that, as I dressed in my wedding dress, and the magnificent lace veil that Edward had purchased for me, that a woman invaded my bedroom. She was tall and large, dressed in a white, straight garment. But whether it was gown, sheet, or shroud, I could not tell. She took my veil from its place; held it up; gazed at it long; and then she threw it over her own head. I saw her ghastly purple features, the lips swelled and dark. She resembled nothing so much as the foul German spectre, the Vampyre. And she rent my veil in two parts, and flinging both on the floor, trampled on them, shouting with ghastly laughter.

The next morning, I found my veil ripped in half, fouled and muddied. This must be Grace Poole's doing, I told myself.

We had no groomsmen, no bridesmaids, no witness but Mrs. Fairfax. When we appeared at the municipal office, there were two strangers there, tall men in black uniforms, visors over their faces--and a near stranger, "Mr. Mason" soi-disant.

The clerk began the time-hallowed words: "I require and charge you both (as ye will answer on the dreadful day when the secrets of the heart shall be disclosed) that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not lawfully pair-bond, ye do now confess it."

Edward, biting his lips with impatience, signaled to the clerk to continue. 

"Wilt thou, Edward Travis, have this woman, Kie-Eyre, as your pair-bond partner?"

"Yes...yes," Edward said quickly, almost stuttering.

"The marriage cannot go on," "Mason" said, rising from his seat. "I declare the existence of an insuperable impediment to this marriage. Space Captain Travis has a wife now living."

I was collected, and in no danger of swooning. I looked at Edward; I made him look at me. His whole face was colourless rock; his eye was both spark and flint.

"Mason"--or, as I suppose I might as well call him, Torquil Servalan--produced a certificate of the marriage, some fifteen years earlier, on one of the colonized worlds, of Edward Travis and Georgina-Victoria Servalan, the youngest daughter of that great house. 

"But I have never heard of a Mrs. Travis at Thornfield," the clerk interposed. 

"No--by the gods!" Edward said. "I took care that none should hear of it--or of her under that name. Georgina-Victoria Servalan is mad; and she came of a mad family; idiots and maniacs through three generations."

Everyone gasped at this statement, which was little short of traitorous; even I could not forbear from a shudder. "I had a charming partner--pure, wise, modest: you can fancy I was a happy man--I went through rich scenes! Oh! my experience has been heavenly, if you only knew it. Servalan, you saw your sister not two months ago, when she leapt at you like a beast. All of you, judge whether or not I had a right to break the compact, and seek sympathy with something at least human."

"You bastard, you married my sister for her money; you made ducks and drakes of that; and it was you who maddened her, with your brutality and unnatural usage of her. And now it's all over for you."

"Oh, I think not," Edward said. "For I was at Zircasta, and I know what was done there, and more to the point, I have documents of what was done there--and that it was your precious sister, or perhaps I should say your other precious sister--who ordered the massacre. I should say we are at stale-mate. Forget what you know, and I shall forget what I know."

"That cannot be," Servalan said. 

"There are far too many witnesses, now," Edward said meaningly.

"Do you say?" Servalan sneered, drawing his sidearm and shooting the clerk and Mrs. Fairfax dead on the spot. Edward was dressed in mufti, and so bore no sidearm, and never charged his Lazeron when he was at home.

Then Servalan turned his attention to me, and the two troopers came forward. "Kie-Eyre, I have here a warrant for your Modification. Travis, you may examine it if you like...all in perfect order, and as a serving officer, you dare not question it."

CHAPTER 8

They marched me off, still clad in my wedding dress, and soon I was on a shuttle to the nearest Modification Centre. I noted the bleak irony that this was my first experience of space travel, and I was hardly able to appreciate it as I thought I would have amidst my childhood longings for the sky.

As soon as we debarked, my gown was exchanged for a coarse smock, and a technician held a camera-probe up to my eye to guide the parameters for my modification. 

I began to scream as soon as I saw the heavily carved wooden case of just one door in a long corridor lined with utilitarian metal doors. By the time I was forced to stand on a stool in a room draped with red hangings, inhabited by the old and new ghosts of my life, I had quite screamed myself out and there was nothing more within me when I saw the mirror, empty again.

CHAPTER 9

For many years (later, I reconstructed that it must have been some five years or more) I recollect nothing, as you would imagine, reader. I must have fought for the Federation, of course, and I regret that the details of these exciting missions have been lost to me.

And then, one day, I heard a voice cry "Kie! Kie! Kie!" and I found myself--not in the storage facility where I had been placed in suspended animation after my last assignment--but in a clearing in a wooded place. Although I had no direct memories as such, somehow the man next to me, in the honourable uniform of a Space Commander (as I later learned, he had achieved promotion in the interim) was ineffably familiar and dear to me. 

I cannot say with certainty if they were in some sense Elementals, or merely women somehow left in sole control of a planet (and a bare, comfortless planet it was indeed--even a dismissed governess would turn up her nose at it). "The death of a friend..." the hag said, turning it over in her toothless mouth like a barley-sugar sweet. 

"Shall I tell you your name?" the man asked avidly. "Kie-Eyre. Kie-Eyre. You were very beautiful. Very much admired."

"I'm sure that didn't matter, Sir," I said. 

"And I loved you," he said. 

"And I loved you," I said, somehow knowing this, and feeling a sort of rumble within me that presaged the return of memories. "But such cannot be."

But all emotions had, at that time, to be submerged in action, and we were obliged to fight for our lives against treachery both natural and supernatural. My heart is wrung to think, even now as I write this, that I failed him when he needed me. The blood of the creature was not suitable. Perhaps it was he who failed me, by denying me the serum that I needed and could have obtained from the traitor's veins (doubly sweet)--no, I won't, can't, think that. My Edward has never failed me. Or if he has, surely the Fates have paid him out for it.

CHAPTER 10

I tremble with anger, such that I can scarcely interface, to think that the traitor Blake escaped and was able to wreak further havoc throughout the loyal worlds. 

I returned to my duties, and was one day the sole pilot of a pursuit ship being returned to its hangar for repairs. And, once again, out of nowhere, I heard that voice cry "Kie-Kie-Kie!" and nothing more. It was the voice of a human being--a known, loved, well-remembered voice--that of Edward Travis; and it spoke in pain and woe wildly, eerily, urgently.

"I am coming!" I cried. "Wait for me! Oh, I will come." I locked on the coordinates of Thornfield Hall, and in minutes, I was there...yet the stately house I remembered with such longing was no more.

Instead, a living horror of fire bloomed up from the roofs, as smoke plumed up from the ruined walls. With my newly keen senses, I could tell that there was one living being still within.

And, at that moment, oh how glad I was for the modification, which enabled me, small and slender as I was, to pull Edward's prostrate form from the inferno that raged about him. I saw at once that a feeble pulse of life beat within him...but that peace had come at last to the bestial form of the woman once yoked to him, and now his would-be destroyer, lying dead beside him, her hand still grasping the torch with which she had created the conflagration that spelled her own doom. 

Soon, I had him back inside my pursuit ship, speeding toward the nearest hospital. And soon he had regained consciousness..but alas, struck down by a roof beam, he was blind! But even that was a blessing, for he was unable to see how I was altered.

"Is it Kie? What is it? This is her shape--this is her size--"

"And this her voice, " I added. "She is all here." If, that is to say, such could ever be said of a mutoid such as myself. pressed my lips to his once brilliant and now rayless eyes--I swept his hair from his brow, and kissed that too.

CHAPTER 11

Reader, I pair-bonded with him. I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine. Mr. Travis continued blind the first two years of our union. I was then his vision, as I am still his left hand. Yet, one day, a glimmer of vision was restored to him; somewhat later, fiber-optic technology improved so that the smashed camera could be repaired and made somewhat useful once again. 

He could not be made fit for military service, of course. And I--and perhaps even he--often thought of that with gladness, when the Andromedans sought to invade our galaxy, yet were rebuffed at the Defence Zone, where so many good soldiers fell.

My Edward and I, then, are happy: and the more so, because those we most love are happy likewise.

FINIS


End file.
